| The sun was rising slowly
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| Furnace hot at dawn
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| Jay was in his hammock
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| Whittling on a horn
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| I was in the kitchen
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| Munching stale cakes
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| Thinking about Rose Mary
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| And how the cookie breaks
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| All in all it’s just another down-home day
|
| Rose Mary was nineteen
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| Slender as a wand
|
| Jay was something else
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| A bullfrog in a pond
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| A viper in disguise
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| A rattler in a sack
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| If you cared to call it
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| He would double slap you back
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| Rose Mary was smitten
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| She fell for Jay in style
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| Just like Robert Mitchum
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| Full of menace with a smile
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| Fluttered her eye lashes
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| Half an inch of hunch
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| Jay was like a school-boy
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| A kid in need of lunch
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| Jay took her to a diner
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| And told her of his power
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| He checked into a hotel room
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| But only booked an hour
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| Rose Mary was no mug
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| She didn’t miss a thing
|
| When Jay stepped on the gas
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| Whipping off his ring
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| His wedding ring was buried
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| In the pocket of his pants
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| Which Rose Mary was going through
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| While Jay was scratching ants
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| He opened up the bathroom door
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| Feeling ill at ease
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| But Rose Mary was long gone
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| With his clothing and his keys
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| I was getting ready
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| To round up missing steers
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| When Rose Mary came knocking
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| In a crocodile of tears
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| She asked me what my name was
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| I said my name was Jay
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| She asked me did I sleep well
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| I said most every day
|
| They say that money talks
|
| Mine just said goodbye |